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[Sidhe]

29th of Winter in the Year 519, AV It had only been three days since Sidhe had arrived in Syka, a single day since his traveling companions continued their journey and began their way towards Riverfall, and already he was antsy. He hadn't done a single productive thing since he'd arrived, and the anxiety that came with the beginnings of a sedentary lifestyle manifested in twitchy fingers, overcleaning his tent, and pointless exercise. All Myrians were raised with the idea that an unproductive Myrian was a shyke Myrian, worth far less than the food in their bellies, their clothing on their back, and the weaponry at their side. It was an ideal that Sidhe wholly believed in. It was one that made him such a productive individual in a sea of productive individuals. He hated rest when he needed none, he hated breaks when he had no work to take a break from. He felt as if he were dying when he lied about leisurely without having truly earned it. He hated it. Before it drove him mad, he quickly pulled on his pants, a light shirt, and his boots. His scabbard was quickly strapped to his waist and dagger carefully sheathed, though he didn't feel as though he would need it. He would usually take time to ensure that he had replenished his field kit and ensured it was fine and packed away in his bag, but he'd messed with it so much the past day and a half, it was immaculately packed. It was stuffed so that he had more than enough for a proper field kit, but in a way that didn't make it impossible to get something out. So he simply pulled it on and left his tent. It was early. Very early. The sky was lightening yet Syna had not yet peaked over the horizon. The air was cool, fresh, and the only sound was that of the incredible waves crashing into each other. Sidhe pulled a long, light breath. It was a good start to a day. He was rested. He was ready. He wanted to do something. He NEEDED to do something. He wouldn't stand to be a useless addition to this new land. And so off he took from his lone tent. Theft hadn't crossed his mind as such a thing in Taloba was uncommon, so it never crossed his mind to strike his tent entirely or even camouflage it. He had heard of the Panacea from a few of the locals, and the friendly Favored of Rak'keli Akalak that ran the healing center. Sidhe was almost giddy from the idea of meeting a new fellow marked of Rak'keli. They were very rare in Taloba, as most were marked by Goddess Myri Herself and fought and reveled in bloodshed too often to want to be marked by such a deity. He was unused to the slumber of the settlement's early mornings, he realized on his walk toward the Panacea - rather, where he THOUGHT was the Panacea. He was told it was just southwest of the Commons, and, according to the now very tip-top of Syna, he was moving in the right direction. Where Taloba was buzzing with activity this early, here it was quiet. Almost dead. He hoped that the manager of the Panacea wasn't like the rest of them. Healers needed to be awake just in case anyone came in need. And he wasn't disappointed. He'd started his trek southwest of the Syka Commons and he could see a small fire in the distance, out in front of a small, open building. He could see a blue-skinned figure sitting behind the fire, the contrast incredibly striking. He didn't know whether he had been noticed, but he made sure he was when he got closer by raising his hand. "Hello," he shouted in Myrian, before coughing once and shouting it in Common this time, albeit with a rather heavy accent. The blue-skinned man looked up and waved back, shouting what Sidhe thought was a greeting in his own native tongue. The Myrian wasn't sure how common Akalak were in Syka, so he hoped he had the correct person, but he only knew for sure when he got closer and clasped the tall man''s forearm in a universal greeting. He simply inherently knew that this man was a marked of Rak'keli, and had a stronger connection than Sidhe himself had. Sidhe could tell by the glimmer in Jansen's eyes that the Akalak, too, knew who had come to meet. "It isn't often I meet another marked out here. You are Myrian, are you not?" Sidhe knew immediately the question's true meaning. It was one he'd come to become used to in Taloba, and he was sure it wouldn't change in a different location. "Yes. But I am healer. We do not all kill," Sidhe answered in his shoddy Common.

[Sidhe]

"That's good, to not kill. It is better to heal than to hurt," the bright blue man offered with a smile. Sidhe only nodded once; he didn't disagree, yet he didn't quite fully agree. War had its place in the world, just like everything else. Even more so for a Myrian, who are raised with combat in mind. There isn't an abundance of healers, but they are not the most common in the slightest, and rarer still in Taloba are healers marked by Rak'keli, so Sidhe's path was something that not many anticipated or knew how to guide him through. Thus, he had still been raised as a fighter, when the end came to end. "I am sorry, I have not introduced," Sidhe suddenly started. He touched his chest. "I am Sidhe of the Red Orchid." He displayed his palm, his red orchid tattoo that had been enhanced by Rak'keli's mark. It was often only shown to clan members as a greeting, but there was a common exception for strangers, so that they may know that he had become a man and passed his trial. The thought that the Akalak wouldn't know what the tattoo signified never crossed his mind. "Such a beautiful tattoo. I can see our Lady grew it even more," Jansen started. "But I am Jansen. And..." The eyes were always known to be windows of the soul, and Sidhe could see the shift behind them as the Akalak's famed second-soul came forth. The slight change in posture and demeanor was obvious when you paid attention. "And I am Kalum. Alavarth," Kalum added. "I am sure you know, but we are twice marked by Rak'keli. And we run the Panacea, this healing clinic for Syka." He leaned forward. "We could always use a second pair of hands, especially another of Rak'keli's hand-chosen." Kalum didn't beat around the bush. Sidhe was grateful for it, as he wasn't sure how one got a job in these foreign lands. "Yes, I will work here. I need practice and learning," Sidhe added with a nod and a slight smile. "I also know a little botany, herbalism, and normal healing. I also..." He pulled off his backpack and opened a small pouch that he'd had sewn into it, that held his journal of jungle herbs. "I have this book for herbs. Written by one of my Clan's best healers," he finished in his broken Common, offering the book for the Akalak's perusal. Kalum took the book and flipped through it, skimming mostly but sometimes taking a little longer to read an entry. "This will be very, very useful for you," he finished as he handed it over. "We know Herbalism and normal Medicine, of course, but our Botany is usually handled by Uta. She is very good with herbs. You should take some time to go over there, perhaps learn and help when you can. It's on this same path, it'll take you a little more south. Uta's Place is just before you hit the river." Sidhe nodded, making a mental note to remember to visit Uta's Place on the same path, just before he sees the river. "Yes, I will learn, and we will have some herbs growing here when I get better," Sidhe said, looking around for the perfect place where he could start a small herb garden.